


Feast-Day Leftovers

by Kinthinia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fantasy AU, M/M, epic fantasy, fantasy crack, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinthinia/pseuds/Kinthinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Steven Rogers is in danger of being assassinated by the rival country of Hydra and it's up to Clint and Phil to foil the plans; however, nothing goes according to plan. And in the end, no one knows what to do with the leftovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feast-Day Leftovers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clint_Coulson_Exchange_2015](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Clint_Coulson_Exchange_2015).



> Merry Christmas and happy holidays! This was a hard work to get through, oddly, but I really sincerely hope it meets all expectations. :) Fantasy is my favorite to write so that was a genuine pleasure to try and combine two different genres.

"Clint, I want you up high. There's no telling when this assassin will strike." Colonel Coulson was a strict man, but fair. And he took his job seriously –maybe a little seriously, but in times like these, Clint couldn't really blame the man.

"Yes sir," he promised, saluting. "I'll take the rafters; it should give me the best vantage point."

"Romanov, I want you at His Majesty's side through the dance."

"Of course," she purred, from his position next to Clint as she sharpened her blades. "It would be my honor."

"Wilson?" Coulson called. "I want you doing perimeter checks, frequent as you can manage. Johnson, you're going to be in charge of double checking all the guests. See if you can spot any fakes or anyone trying to sneak in."

Wilson saluted; next to him, Johnson gave a firm nod.

"May's going to be with me tonight," Coulson continued. "Morse, Hunter and Mack, I want you three stationed at the entrance, help Daisy if things get out of control there. General Fury will be here with his guards, and Duke Stark is bringing Colonel Rhodes with him. Adding to that, the list of His Majesty's military friends, I don't want too many of us on the floor in risk of tripping over each other."

That was probably the best part about Colonel Coulson. He actually explained why he was positioning them where they were going to be put. Clint noticed the dissatisfied lines in Hunter's face ease and the way Morse sighed, resigned. Mack didn't seem troubled in the least, but Johnson perked up. Most military goons just barked out orders and expected them to be obeyed. Before Coulson, no one had ever cared why Clint was going against their orders. It was happenstance, about three years back, when Captain Garrett brought Clint straight to Colonel Coulson in order to deal with his insubordination.

Unfortunately for Garrett, he'd never bothered to ask Clint why he was sitting somewhere else. Those were the first words out of Coulson's mouth. "Barton, why were you sitting in the tree?" he'd asked.

"Better sightlines, sir," Clint had said, hastily tagging the sir on. "If I was on the rooftop like the captain wanted, there were at least eight blind spots. And one of them was where the target decided to cross at."

Coulson's eyebrows had risen at that. "You've dealt with the mission successfully then?"

"Yes. Sir."

"Captain Garrett, take your complaint and go find yourself a new sniper. Effective immediately, Barton, you're with me."

Garrett's stuttered outrage was, to this day, one of the best sounds Clint had ever heard.

"The king has expressly stated he doesn't want anything to go wrong tonight," Coulson said patiently. "He doesn't trust Hydra either, but he wants to broker peace. The kingdom, as we well know, is tired of fighting."

"Last time we tried for peace, they sent an assassin," Daisy Johnson pointed out, a frown on her face. "And they almost succeeded."

King Steven –call me Steve –had nearly died. They'd shoved him off one of the battlements. It was only luck that Sam Wilson had been out on a routine flight test. He'd caught the king. And, as a reward, was assigned to Colonel Coulson.

Since the energy crisis thirty years ago, the energy reserves were spared only for the king and Duke Stark who were working to find a solution. Meanwhile most of the kingdom was stuck using candles, lightbulbs and magically enhanced rocks that could glow. Duke Stark, who was a genius with that kind of thing had been able to forge a strange flying suit that ran on a new energy source he'd created. It was beyond Clint's ability to understand the specifics of it. But with King Steve, they were working on making it available to the rest of the kingdom. Due to the new element, it had given their scientists energy to play with. And one of their earliest creations was to build Sam Wilson a suit that could fly. Because watching Duke Stark had inspired thousands, Sam just happened to be lucky enough to reap those benefits. The difficult part was in mass-producing it, or in using the production they had to spread the energy throughout the kingdom. As it was, most of the areas closest to the capital were already enjoying the benefits while the rest of the kingdom had no choice but to wait on the scientists.

The kingdom of Shield was a mostly peaceful and generally prosperous country led by the benevolent King Steven. Hydra was their nearest ally and more often than not, Hydra was trying to take Shield over. They wanted their resources. It was because of people like Hydra's rulers, their noble elite that the energy crisis had happened. Led by Emperor Pierce, their agents were as conniving as they were vicious. Unlike King Steve who was known for his royal and brave knights, the men of the Howling Commandos, Pierce was known for his assassins. Men and women like Natasha Romanov, born and bred to kill until they couldn't. King Steve was a surprisingly patient man and no matter how many assassins they set upon him, he kept offering peace to their nation. It was something the citizens of both lands desperately wanted. But once again, at a ball and banquet where Shield and Hydra were to shake hands and foster peace between them, a notice had gone out, a call for King Steve's head.

As such, Coulson had called together his team. Between him, General Fury and King Steve, the night would not fall to disaster. It was impossible to tell who the assassin would be, which assassin would answer the summons. The reward money was surprisingly steep, and not only that but they all knew Pierce would have sent one of his best to see the job through. The summons was as a bonus, a failsafe in case one of his prized assassins failed. If anything at all during the banquet or ball went wrong, Pierce's ambassadors would be able to claim that it was King Steve's fault and retreat to Hydra. If they really wanted, it might provide them the grounds to declare all-out war on Shield. And King Steve's goal was to see to it that absolutely nothing went wrong, in an attempt to force Hydra into making peace or war with no excuses. As extra insurance for that, the ball had been opened to a select few.

The invitations had been mailed out to the pre-screened individuals –Peter Parker and his date Gwen Stacy, Gemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz, America Chavez and Kate Bishop, along with Wade Wilson, Nathan Summers and Logan Howlett. Coulson and General Fury had spent a lot of time debating including Wade or not, but ultimately King Steve weighed his opinion on the matter. They had won the draw and regardless of how potentially dangerous each of them were, to each other and especially to King Steve, it was decided they would attend the banquet and ball as civilian representatives. When they had won the draw and mailed in their acceptances, Daisy and Duke Stark went over their background and what was known and unknown about them. King Steve ultimately didn't care.

"Hey, what should I do if someone sees me in the rafters?"

"They might think you're an assassin," Daisy pointed out.

Clint rolled his eyes but Natasha answered first. "Tell them you're the circus performer King Steve hired," she said, flashing a wicked grin his way. "Or you could say you're the court jester."

"Ha, ha," Clint drawled.

"I think Stark is better suited for that role," Coulson murmured thoughtfully.

"No," Bobbi said. "Because he'd be more likely to incite a rebellion than leave everyone laughing. That position might be too much for him to handle."

Clint chuckled.

Coulson dismissed them all and Clint spent the next several hours dressing up his tac gear so he didn't look too out of place in case anyone looked up and saw him. He moved into position before the party had even started and settled in to wait. He let his mind wander and wasn't surprised when his thoughts drifted towards Coulson. He'd spent years working with the man and had been harboring a crush the size of the kingdom on him for nearly as long. A fact that both Natasha and Bobbi were unfortunately aware of. And, lately, it seemed like Coulson had caught on that there was some drama or gossip between the three of them because he wasn't spending as much time with them as he used to. And, in Clint's case, Coulson wasn't letting him kill time in his office anymore. But, that was okay too, Clint rationed. Coulson just wasn't interested in him and now that he knew about Clint's feelings, he was just trying to avoid an awkward situation. By, of course, making everything awkward.

Clint had realized he was head over heels for Coulson nearly a year after they'd started working together. They'd been on a supply run to one of their borderlands when they came across a village being ransacked by bandits. Coulson had led the counterattack, ordering Clint to stay back and guard the supplies. It was food mostly, a few goats and sheep that would do well in the mountains out this way and what little King Steven had been able to spare in the way of magical energy. As the sole reigning monarch, King Steven was the only one able to draw on the benefits of Project Rebirth, designed to help the country pull through a century at least. Project Rebirth was the only source of magical energy independent of a human being, supposedly a secret well, hidden away where only King Steven could find it. As such, for these emergency supply runs, he always gathered up a few bottles to send for the villages' relief. And Clint had stayed behind, as ordered, protecting the supplies. From the corner of his eye though, he could see Coulson and he could see Coulson kicking ass. It was hot. That was just the start of everything, of Clint having realized he was attracted to his superior officer.

Once the ball started, everything happened so quickly. Clint never even saw the man enter the party. With his hair tied back and in a pressed, white suit, he blended into the ballroom guests and made his way to King Steve. The only reason Clint even noticed anything is because he was watching Steve as that was his job. And suddenly, he found that Steve had dropped his glass and thrown his arms around the unknown man. Clint nearly fired before he realized that Steve was hugging the guy. And the second fact he registered, was that the man being hugged had a very large knife in his hand. After that, it was a blur of confusion and frightened guests who were running screaming.

Clint lost sight of Coulson more than once as he had to go and deal with the mess of a very distraught king who had apparently just been reunited with his long-lost childhood friend. A touching reunion for everyone, except maybe the would-be assassin who was apparently confused about what was going on. Because he didn't remember who Steve was. Which made things interesting as General Fury had to corral all the frightened party-goers and explain the situation. Wade nearly dismembered Logan; Logan nearly took out someone's eye and Natasha almost killed King Steven's best friend. All in all, a very exciting party that left them with plenty of leftovers no one knew what to do with. Because Steve absolutely refused to be parted from his best friend, all decisions were left up to anyone else. Absolutely anyone. (None of their guests wanted to return in case there were more assassins waiting to murder people). In a few hours, it was just Clint and Coulson standing in front of a banquet table piled high with left over feat food.

"We should eat it," Clint said, eyeing the pizza. It was a special feast-day item. Once a year. "It'd be only fair…"

"No," Coulson replied dryly. "No."

"But sir… I don't believe in wasting food."

"Not even you can eat that much pizza," Coulson pointed out dryly. The table was lined with pizzas. 

"I can try," Clint said stubbornly, reaching for a piece of meat pizza.

Coulson slapped his hand away. "Absolutely not. We are going to pack this up and take it to the townspeople."

Clint pouted at him. "Boss, boss, come on."

"We are going to share it with the townspeople. His Majesty could use the publicity." Clint reached for another piece. Coulson grabbed his wrist and pulled Clint back towards him. "No," he enunciated, slowly and clearly.

"Phil, please," Clint pleased. "I was stuck in the rafters all night."

"No," Phil said bluntly.

Clint pressed back against him, suddenly becoming aware of a different issue going on there. They were pressed together. And Phil seemed to become aware of it at the same time, as he flushed a bright, adorable shade of red and shoved Clint away. Clint turned to face him, staring in surprise.

"I am so sorry," Phil stuttered, still that bright red.

"Not a problem," Clint replied, grinning at him. For the first time, he let his gaze wander over Phil's body and he allowed himself to appreciate it.

"Are you quite happy?" Phil demanded, crossing his arms.

"It's mutual, sir, believe me. It's been mutual for years." Clint grinned at him playfully, ignoring the way his heart was pounding. 

Phil had been ignoring him for so long. Because of this? That seemed the logical issue.

"Barton – Clint," Phil stuttered, taking a half step back. His back pressed against the table.

"Sir… if you don't want this, just say the word…. But I kind of think you might. And I know I want." Clint walked closer.

Phil made one of his complicated faces, likely over thinking the entire thing. But he didn't ask Clint to stop –and Clint was nice enough to take his time in approaching him, to let him think about it. Just because he didn't want to frighten off the man he was in love with. So Clint pressed a light, chaste kiss to his lips while he waited to see what Phil was going to do next. Phil threw his arms around him and one kiss turned into many, turned into a dance of messy kisses and laughs as they headed back to their own rooms.

(Phil left the servants with explicit orders to send Daisy, Lincoln and Mac out to deliver the food to the townspeople. Clint never even got to eat a slice of pizza. But he did get to taste Phil, which he thought was an almost fair trade).


End file.
